| Once again the morning will come. |
| Cold, bitter tea.
|
| And we must continue to believe in miracles.
|
| And believe in happiness, but sadness does not give again.
|
| I'm on a chain and cornered, and smoking won't save me.
|
| I chose myself: to walk in circles, run after her, love her.
|
| Chorus:
|
| Why, why, why, everything is so unbearable.
|
| I'm just a mannequin, in the eyes of her beautiful ones.
|
| Why, tell me then, am I running after her along the edge?
|
| Her love is a game, such a cruel one!
|
| It burns so painfully under a thin jacket;
|
| 8 days a week, I speak with beeps on the phone,
|
| And studying the barcodes of heavy rains.
|
| The rails are carried serenely to foreign cities.
|
| I can forget everything, of course, but not her and never!
|
| Chorus:
|
| Why, why, why, everything is so unbearable.
|
| I'm just a mannequin, in the eyes of her beautiful ones.
|
| Why, tell me then, am I running after her along the edge?
|
| Her love is a game, such a cruel one!
|
| Empty skies! |
| May be,
|
| Someday our souls will be together.
|
| All thoughts without you!
|
| For now, just run.
|
| Why, why, why...
|
| I'm just a mannequin...
|
| Chorus:
|
| Why, why, why, everything is so unbearable.
|
| I'm just a mannequin, in the eyes of her beautiful ones.
|
| Why, tell me then, am I running after her along the edge?
|
| Her love is a game, such a cruel one! |